


Game

by Soar319



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, Backstory, Blood and Injury, Death, Memories, War Veteran D.va, hana recalls some painful memories, loss of family, she's gone through some shit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-25
Updated: 2018-01-25
Packaged: 2019-03-09 10:35:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,932
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13479708
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Soar319/pseuds/Soar319
Summary: Just think of it as a game. A game where you can't respawn.





	Game

**Author's Note:**

> There are mentions of death throughout the story, implied as well.

Think of it as a game, Song. Think of it like those games you have played ever since you were little. The Titans were the enemy team that you went against in the competitions, each one with a different strategy. You have to make up new tactics and plays to counter their new skills, just like every other enemy team. Out-play them. Counter them.

It is just a game, but you cannot respawn. That's okay; hardcore mode, think of it that way. You like a challenge, don't you? You like playing on the harder difficulties. Think of it as a game, just like all of those games that you've played on your livestream. And all that money donated or raised from the streams was sent home.

A home that does not exist anymore.

"See you guys next time! Love, D.Va!" Blowing a kiss at the webcam with a grin, D.Va ended the livestream, watching as all of her fans wished her goodbye in the chat. She leaned back in her chair, the bottom squeaking a little bit; the computer light was the only illumination in the room. The bright, energetic smile on her face fell into a tired frown as she rubbed her eyes with a sigh. Setting the controller aside, she sat back up and went to a website in her bookmarks, glancing at the money fans donated to her during the livestream. Typing the amount into a little box, the cursor moved and checked the boxes as if second-nature. At the additional comments section, she typed out a message, eyes not even looking down at the keyboard.

_I hope this will help- Hana 'D.Va' Song_

As the transaction went through, her eyes strayed over to the Light Pistol resting on her nightstand, the little pink bunny charm hanging over the edge. It was a bit crudely made and worn down from participating in countless battles, D.Va not surprised if there was an extra chipped edge or two. But she would never dare to get rid of it.

It was one of the few things she has left from home.

_"Hana, before you go..." She turned around, Myung smiling proudly up at her. She held out a little charm, shaped like her signature gaming icon; it wasn't smooth, comprised of flat surfaces rather than rounded. The entire thing was painted pink, Hana seeing several coats of paint over it. "I made this for you! I'm sorry I didn't have time to put the face on..."_

_"No, I love it." Hana smiled, taking it and clipping it onto her duffle bag. "Bet this will bring good luck!"_

_"I hope too!" She kissed Myung one last time on the forehead, ruffling her hair affectionately. Myung giggled, swatting at Hana's hand._

_"You behave at school, alright? Don't make big sis fly all the way back here to make sure you do your homework!"_

_"I will! I'll become super smart, just you wait!"_

Did she even make it to middle school?

Hana picked up the gun, resting the keychain on her palm. The faceless bunny stared back at her, the layers of paint still intact even after countless battles. It swung under the gun whenever she pulled it out and fired rapidly at any enemies in sight, swinging left and right to her movements. The number of times the gun got her out of trouble and brought her back to base alive, she couldn't count.

The keychain always swung there, a good luck item in her inventory that meant she was going to win.

But not everybody could win. Some got a game over.

_"DAMIEN!" Yanking the mech towards the smoking wreck, she could hear the battle still going on, explosions and gunfire loud and clear. Damien's icon fizzed on her screen, Hana throwing up defense matrix as she almost threw herself out of her mech, running towards the broken pile. "DAMIEN, WHERE ARE YOU?!" She yelled, hoping her voice was louder than the howling blizzard winds. The bitter cold was seeping quickly into her bones, biting at her jumpsuit. "DAMIEN!"_

_"H-Hana…?" Grabbing the chunks of the destroyed mech, Hana ignored the cold as she shoved the pieces to the side, straining her muscles to move the heavier pieces._

_"Damien, answer me!" She yelled, hearing a groan of pain to her right. Lifting up a sheet, she pushed it to the side, white clouds coming out of her mouth with each pant. Falling to her knees, she grabbed Damien's hand, trying to pull him out under the scrapheap. "C'mon, we can get you out of here-!"_

_"I-I'm sorry, Hana… I-I was..." A gasp for oxygen, Hana paling as she saw how red the snow was getting. "I-I was caught off guard..." He wheezed, Hana shaking her head and moving more of the metal away. She gritted her teeth, pushing the heavy arm cannon off of Damien._

_"You're going to be okay! Just stay awake!" She pleaded, trying to lift him up and sling his arm around her shoulders. She didn't want to look at how mangled his side was, a piece impaling through his leg. "Damien, please!" No response. Hana tried again, his heart beating faster when she couldn't see Damien move anymore. "D-Damien… let's go…!" The blizzard was screaming in her ear, the tears streaming down her face slowly freezing over. Her fingers were stiff, the red pool in the snow growing bigger and bigger. "L-Let's go..." She begged, tugging on Damien one more time. He wasn't moving._

_Damien's icon fizzed on her screen one more time before disappearing. Game over._

Was she five months into the MEKA program at the time? Six? Three? She can't remember. She has seen so many of her teammates receive a game over as she held their hand, promising a victory in the face of defeat, that she could not recall clearly what time it happened. It all blended all into one horrible nightmare, a nightmare that was different each time but ended all the same.

How many has she seen?

Did she want to know?

Setting the Light Pistol down, she looked back into her game library, clicking on a certain folder. There was a certain list of games inside the folder, games that she put immeasurable hours into, getting every achievement, story path, and more.

Those games were the favorites of the people she fought with. When they all met and became friends, they all shared what games they liked the most; MOBAs, RPGs, indies, Triple-A, puzzle, open-world, and more. She could see their eyes sparkling when they talked about how excited they were for the sequel, how passionately they argued over whether the classic or new version was better. Their voices were loud and proud when they shared their achievements and best scores, showing off rare items or a particularly impressive highlight.

Hana smiled sadly, eyes resting on the list. Each game represented a person, a teammate, a friend. She loved her team, Sector One, dearly. She couldn't visit them around the world and leave gifts, so she settled for visiting them in the games and letting them be the strongest, most powerful, or simply the protagonist. The protagonist doesn't die permanently, after all.

A ping on her phone caught her attention, looking over and lifting it up.

- **Mission briefing tomorrow, 0800.** \- Winston

Swiping it into her reminders, she got up from her chair, stretching with a groan. Turning on her lamp on her nightstand, she picked up the stray soda cans and chip bags scattered along the floor, dumping them into the trash. Going to the bathroom, she ran her washcloth under some hot water, washing her face. The temperature relaxed her a little bit, but not by much. Looking up into the mirror, the face that looked back had bloodshot eyes with heavy bags and tangled hair, the triangles freshly drawn on. It was what stared back at her when she was alone with her thoughts, the incident all too familiar to her.

_"Y-You always did carry..." Hana's fingers gripped the joysticks with white knuckles, her eyes staring ahead wide. Four icons were fizzling as their voices crackled over the mic, one of them laughing weakly. "S-Sorry we can't make it home, Hana..."_

_"P-Please, hold on!" She begged, their voices tearing away at her heart. "J-Just… Just a little longer!"_

_"Carry us to victory, Hana!" The first icon disappeared._

_"We know you can do it!" The second icon disappeared._

_"We believe in you!" The third icon disappeared._

_"Pwn all these Omnics! Show them what Hana Song can do!" The final icon disappeared. Her screen was empty, aside from her icon._

_Staring up at the Titan that was a hundred times bigger than her mech, the voices of her fallen teammates echoed over and over in her head, louder than the explosions of the battlefield. Her eyes were stinging and watering, but she ignored it all. Screaming, she boosted forward, smashing her hand on the self-destruct button. She flung herself towards the Titan, ejecting out as the mech overheated, glowing brightly._

_"NERF THIS!"_

_She returned to base alone. The other pilots began to cheer, but quickly went silent when they saw her expression. They waited for the others, the air almost suffocating as she slowly limped to the infirmary, the Light Pistol clutched in her hands._

_That night, alone in the silent dorm, was a waking nightmare._

D.Va was a grinning, smug, confident girl to the public, ready to wreck all the n00bs and pwn her enemies. With her giant mech and Light Pistol, she could shoot her way through anything with a taunting smile, always ready to go. An unbeatable champion of gaming that dared anybody to try to dethrone her, bold and competitive. Her livestreams were all full of energy, laughs and screams and yells. D.va was always ready, always energetic, and always happy.

Just like a game, D.Va was her character, and she controlled her.

Hana ran the cloth over her face once again, sighing and looking in the mirror again. Her eyes have witnessed the defeat of her friends that she, just before the battle, played games with, challenging them to a quick round before the waves of Titan attacks; exploded into bits, shot to hell, bleeding out in the frigid snow, sometimes so mangled she could only recognize them by their dog tags. Her fingers have held the dying hands of others, keeping them company until their heart beat one last time, HP depleted. She feared that if she was to let go of D.Va's bubbly personality, she would go insane.

Few kept a winning streak. Too many lost.

It was like a game. She was one of the few that was still going.

Changing her clothes and lying down to sleep, she readied herself for tomorrow, where D.Va would laugh and ask if this was easy mode. She would tease the other heroes as she destroyed them in video games, Tracer throwing the controller up in frustration as Lúcio called dibs on the next round, Genji watching in amusement.  
  
"GG, get owned! I still love you, though, hehe!"

Think of it as a game, Song. You have to keep on winning. Out-play the enemy. Out-play death.

But when was her streak going to end? When will she finally make a mistake, say "GG" for the last time, and watch as her icon fizzles away, defeat flashing across her screen?

A game where you can't respawn.

Just think of it that way, Song. Just think of it as a game.

**Author's Note:**

> This is a rewrite from last year's NaNoWriMo. It's always been my headcanon for D.va to be something like this, and I want to flesh her out more in another story.


End file.
